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Sunday, December 30, 2012

Christine Young Is Hosting Jak Barley-Private Inquisitor Today

Jak Barley-Private Inquisitor by Dan
Ehl

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 3

Buy at:
www.roguephoenixpress.com

The slow ride through the night was
depressing. The bone-chilling dampness made me draw my canvas cape tighter. I
was tired, cold, and bruised. The disheartening slaughter weighed heavily upon
me. The alluring memory of the redheaded fortuneteller's warm nest of quilts
made the venture seem all the more wretched.

"How
did you guess I seek vengeance?" Mahvan had pulled her horse up next to
me.

"Guessing had nothing to do with
it," I replied halfhearted and by rote. "A trained private inquisitor
reads subtle signs and cues as easily as if they were inked script on a grand
bishop's vellum."

"Vague
words to hide behind," she snapped.

I laughed
at the words, the same I'd spoken to Lorenzo only hours before.

Mahvan must have thought I laughed at
her, for her retort was laden with ire. "You find me humorous, Master
Barley?"

I remembered her hidden weapons and the
proficiency in which she dispatched an attacker. "No, my lady. Just an
errant thought."

This time I would not relent to a
beautiful face. Why the gods toy with me so, I do not know. Too many times I
have lain out my well-crafted deductions, only to find I had reached the right
revelation but by a wrong path.

"As with a stage illusionist, a
private inquisitor seldom reveals his methods. Let us just say that I observe
obvious signs an untrained eye will miss. Once explained, I'm afraid my
deductions would suddenly plunge from the realm of wonder to a more mundane
plane."

She remained silent and I wished I
could view her face. Our discussion was lightening my heart, as it is often
when speaking to a beautiful woman.

"You are of high birth," I
explained, keeping to safe ground. "You have rid yourself only recently of
jewelry, so speaks the light rings of skin about your fingers. Your speech also
gives you away, as well as your obvious unease at the informality of being
addressed by your bestowed name. Would you rather I call you mistress or
lady?"

"You
find me prissy?" she snapped.

I was
relieved to have sidestepped her queries.

"I hardly think that word would
describe a maiden who travels as a boyish follower of Dorga, carries a battery
of hidden weapons, and uses those same arms with the skill of a Hoonnish
assassin."

"Are
you for hire?"

I grimaced. The last thing I wanted to
do was reduce my status from fellow traveler to that of a common hireling.

She mistook my hesitancy. "I can
pay you. I am not without resources, despite my current appearance."

"It
is not that my lady..."

"Mahvan,"
she corrected.

"I, ah, have many commitments when
we arrive at Stagsford. I had not thought to work. To take on a case
now..."

"I see, please excuse me if I
trouble you with my problems," she interrupted again, this time more
coolly. "I should have realized you take not just any task."

"Why,
no, er, yes. It is not..."

"And I am sure you have more
important things to do than aid some helpless maiden in distress. I have heard
private inquisitors are a reticent sort, made reserved by their unpleasant
tasks."

"Well, that is not wholly
true," I sputtered, wanting to defend my trade. "We private
inquisitors are not without feelings..."

"You will help me as a friend
then, Master... Jak?" she said with a voice groping for hope.

"Ah..."

"Thank you. We will talk more of
this tomorrow." She nudged her mount and dropped back with Eli and
Chaatiguin.

This was a really fun book! It combined elements of Sword and Sorcery
Fantasy with elements of satire that made occasionally viscious fun...